


A walk in the snow

by Vault_Emblem



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Snow, Winter, because they're two disasters and we all know it, in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: Dismas goes out for a walk despite the terrible freezing weather. Reynauld joins him.
Relationships: Crusader/Highwayman (Darkest Dungeon), Dismas/Reynauld (Darkest Dungeon)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: Snowiest Dungeon





	A walk in the snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darndungeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darndungeon/gifts).



> Happy holidays Shibs! I hope you have a great time :D  
> Here's some old men fluff for you to enjoy

They’ve arrived to the Hamlet during spring, not that it mattered because it was so shitty out there that no matter the season it would’ve sucked either way, but now that winter has come, many things have changed: saying that the Hamlet has become an entirely different village would be too much, but it’s liveable now. Even its inhabitants have become chattier, warmer, which is a fun contrast with the season.

Dismas still can’t believe that it’s been almost a year since he set foot in this shithole. Somehow, he still hasn’t ended up dead, which is surprising to say the least; it’s not even for a lack of trying, not when he’s put himself in danger’s way so many times - it comes with the job of being an adventurer unfortunately.

He doesn’t know why he’s decided to take a stroll about town; it’s freezing outside and even in his heavy coat he can fill the chill. He didn’t want to sit his ass inside today, he supposes. Even with the weather being shitty, he doesn’t regret his decision; his body might not be young as it once was, but it feels good strolling around, directionless, observing a town that has been brought back from the brink.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that he’s one of the people who’s made this possible. It still feels surreal.

What’s more surreal to him is being able to expose himself like he’s doing now without being afraid of being persecuted: to these people he’s a hero - or, if not exactly a hero, someone who’s doing good - so they don’t have any reason to attack him, no wrong that requires being set right by hurting him.

Is he truly someone that should be considered a hero by the town? Dismas highly doubts it, but he also doesn’t particularly care. He’s not there to change the way people look at him, he’s there for his own reasons: for once he’s trying to do the right thing. He’s not foolish enough to think that it’ll make all his wrongdoings vanish in thin air, but it’s still better than keep living like he always had, robbing and killing. Yes, he’s a dirty dirty murderer but the townsfolk here don’t care, which, returning to the subject of taking walks, is good because he doesn’t have to constantly watch his back…

This is what he thought, at least, which explains why he gets so startled when a hand finds itself on the small of his back that he almost jumps - _almost_ , let that be clear. He also almost unsheathes the knife he always hides in his sleeve to point it at the aggressor, but luckily for said aggressor’s throat, Dismas notices who the person so bold to attempt something like this is: of course it’s Reynauld. Judging by the huge smirk on his face - it’s a miracle that he’s not wearing his bucket for once - it’s easy to assume that he did this on purpose.

“You ass!” Dismas exclaims, putting all his indignation in those simple words, though instead of making Reynauld feel ashamed of his actions, he only succeeds in making him laugh. The first time he heard him that sound, it was a surprise: Dismas didn’t even have any idea that he was capable of something like that! At the time he was convinced that Reynauld was the kind of man that would never allow any levity into his life; boy was he wrong: it took some time for him to “come out of his shell”, as Audrey once said that time they found themselves talking about him, but he’s one of the most jovial people in the Hamlet. Dismas would even go as far as to describe him as a “bit of a dork”; he’s convinced by now that the reason why he wears his armor even in town it’s because then his secret would get out and people would begin to see him as more than a zealot tin can.

“Ah, good day to you too, Dismas,” he says, like Dismas hasn’t just insulted him. He can be so irritating sometimes with his fake obliviousness… but Dismas would lie if he said that he doesn’t find it endearing.

A chuckle leaves his lips, right before Dismas could hide his face under his neckerchief, not that he feels the need to do that a lot when he’s with Reynauld: it must be because they’ve been the first ones to arrive, but they’ve grown accustomed to each other with time, more than with the others. Not that they are completely antisocial - well, Dismas is a bit - but they’re also found with each other more often than not, almost like they’re a completely different unit from the rest of the adventurers who are helping around.

“Come with me?” Dismas asks, without even thinking about it.

“Where?”

“Wherever you want,” Dismas shrugs. He didn’t have any actual plans about where to go specifically. If Reynauld has somewhere to be, he can accompany him there if he wants. Reynauld’s response is immediate.

“I’ll follow your lead.”

It’s not often that Dismas hears him say that, considering that during expeditions he always makes a point to stay at the front, an immediate shield between them and their enemies. Very selfless of him, but it also led to a few scares when he sustained so much damage that he was barely standing, managing to do so only because of the healers.

To hear him say that now, and to him of all people, fills Dismas with something he’s grown accustomed to the more time he spent with the other: it’s been quite some time already, so he has accepted the growing affection he feels towards him, affection that he’s made a point to keep a secret to everyone, not wanting to get Reynauld’s name dirty by associating it with him in some kind of relationship that goes beyond simple camaraderie. It doesn’t hurt as much as it should, probably because Dismas knew from the start that this is an impossible love.

He smiles, hiding all this internal turmoil far from Reynauld’s gaze, when his eyes fall on the arm that the crusader has offered him. After that, he doesn’t hesitate not even for a moment before giving his own arm; his hand will suffer a bit for not being in the coat’s warm pocket anymore, but it’s a sacrifice Dismas is willing to make.

“Let’s take a walk.”

Except from some small talk at the beginning - “How was your morning?” “Very good, how about yours?” - they don’t speak. It seems unusual for someone like Dismas, who lives running his mouth constantly, to stay silent for this long, but for once he doesn’t feel the need to cover the silence with his voice: the atmosphere is more than comfortable like this already, he doesn’t need to make it worse.

Like this he can also live in the delusion that there’s something more between them. He tries not to do it - it’s not fair to Reynauld - but sometimes he can’t help it; he’s always had a vivid imagination, he can’t help himself.

“You sure you don’t have anything else to be? I’d hate to hold you back,” he says. Here we go again with the self-sabotaging: every time Dismas is having a good time, he always finds a way to ruin it, even unconsciously. It’s like his brain can’t wrap itself over the idea of him having good things.

Miraculously, Reynauld is patient when he gets like this. It wasn’t always the case, especially when they were still beginning to get acquainted with each other, but by now he knows that most of the time Dismas doesn’t really mean all the shit he’s saying. This doesn’t mean he can’t tease him however.

“Are you sending me away?” he asks, only the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. At those words Dismas’ entire body tenses, like he’s just given him a punch to the gut.

“N-No!” he stutters. “I was just… Ugh, forget it.”

Seeing him in difficulty makes Reynauld feel a bit guilty for teasing him, so he apologizes.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he begins. “To answer to your question, no. I am not needed anywhere today.”

Now it’s Dismas’ turn to smile.

“You’re telling me that you’ve got yourself a free day? _You?_ ” That’s unheard of. Since their first day at the Hamlet, Dismas has never seen Reynauld not busy, to the point that he convinced himself that the man is physically unable to take a break - maybe he was allergic to fun and would’ve fallen ill. To hear that he’s not doing anything today is like hearing that the bounty hunter has decided to stop antagonizing him for no reason; it’s just not possible!

Reynauld looks at him dead in the eyes, ready to tell him off for making fun of him, when he realizes that it’s supposedly Dismas’ revenge for before. Alright, he gets a pass.

“It was about time, if you ask me,” Dismas says then, and Reynauld can’t help but to chuckle at his words. Yes, he definitely gets a pass.

It has begun snowing.

It’s a sight that Dismas is pretty accustomed to; how many nights has he spent out in the open with this shitty weather? How many nights has he spent in even worse conditions? So many that he’s lost count. That’s how things are when you’re a wanted criminal: it’s hard to find a place to stay in. He always had to either find an abandoned house or even camp outside town directly, maybe find a cave if he was lucky. Still, however it went, what he remembers more vividly than anything else is how cold he always felt.

Despite being in a similar condition now, with Reynauld by his side, he doesn’t feel cold at all. Must be because he’s in such close proximity to another human being, but Dismas is no fool, he knows why. Is he going to think about it? He’s trying not to, even though with the object of his affection so close it’s hard not to. He can’t deny how good it feels.

If he somehow was able to go back in time and tell his younger self about this, he wouldn’t have believed him; more likely, he would’ve _shot_ him. Honestly, he can’t blame him: it sounds crazy, nothing his young mind could’ve ever imagined at the time.

Instead of keeping his gaze low to the ground, he finally raises it, moving it towards Reynauld and… o-oh…

“Ahahahahahahahah!”

Reynauld’s head snaps to look at him.

“What?” he asks, confused by this sudden hilarity.

“I see you went white already, you old man,” Dismas says then, raising a hand to ruffle Reynauld’s hair, thus letting the snow that had rested on it fall, still snickering as he does so. He didn’t even think about the implication such a gesture could entail, and neither does Reynauld apparently because he just looks at him and smirks.

Years of being on the run have refined Dismas’ reflexes to a whole new level, that’s why he notices immediately that Reynauld’s trying some shit and he manages to duck out of the way before the ungraceful oaf can reach for his head.

“Looks like you’ve gone white too, _older man_ ,” Reynauld says, making Dismas gasp, shooting him an angry look.

“You don’t need to rub it in, stupid tin can!”

“Oh, so now I’m back to being just a tin can to you?”

They both stare at each other, a game of gazes to see who’s going to crumble first, but eventually they both chuckle. Sometimes it feels good to get back to their old squabbles, though it’s also true that they’ve said way worse things to each other at the time. _At the time_ , look at him talk about these things like it’s being actual ages ago.

It’s always fun to remember how different things used to be.

“You still have snow in your hair,” Reynauld points out.

“Eh, leave it, I don’t mind,” Dismas shrugs. As if someone like him would ever care about how he looks; he stopped doing that when he was thirty he’s not going back to do it now.

He’s ready to drop the subject altogether, but Reynauld’s gaze is still fixed on him. He said that he wasn’t going to suddenly become self-conscious but with those eyes on him he can’t help but to be a little.

“Something’s on my face?” he asks. He stretches his hand up, towards his head, in order to ruffle away the snow in his hair - maybe that’s what’s bothering Reynauld - when the crusaders suddenly moves, grabbing his hand before he can do so.

“ _Don’t!_ ” he exclaims, with such vehemence that it startles Dismas a little, mostly because he’s never seen him like this outside of battle. Something must be wrong.

Reynauld must’ve realized how what he’s doing must look, because he freezes, gently pulling away from Dismas and taking one step behind, putting some distance between them - a distance that Dismas wants to be filled again, but he tries his best to ignore the burning feeling of disappointment inside him.

He hears the other mumble something, but his voice is so low that he understands none of it. This is so weird; just what exactly caused Reynauld to act so flustered all of a sudden?

“What?”

“Um…” Reynauld stutters, eyes not on Dismas anymore. Is he blushing, or it’s simply the cold? “I just thought it looked… cute.”

_Cute?_ Did Reynauld just call him “cute”? No, he must’ve heard wrong.

“You got a fever?” Dismas asks, stepping closer to Reynauld to feel his forehead with his hand. Weird, he’s not hot, so it can’t be that he’s ill.

Having Dismas so close and concerned, paired with the fact that he _truly_ looks cute like this, is enough for Reynauld to throw all caution out in the wind. If he had taken some time to think about it, he would’ve surely realized the mistake he was about to make: not only he’d be overstepping, but he’s also being selfish. How else can he call the way he’s assuming that Dismas will be okay with this, that he will accept it?

None of this goes through his mind as he leans closer, pressing his lips against Dismas’. The first reaction he has when he hears the other’s gasp is of fondness, then of _panic_.

He pulls away immediately, like he’s just been burned - and in a way, he has. As he begins to mutter his apologies, however, he can’t help but to touch his own lips, mind still hazy from the feeling of having just kissed Dismas. Somehow he can still feel the imprint of it on his skin, on his very core.

Before he can compose a sentence that actually makes sense - Dismas deserves at least this much - he finds himself unable to speak at all. Why? Because Dismas has just grabbed him by the shoulders and has made their lips collide again, taking Reynauld entirely by surprise. Is this real? He’s had already his mind played with by some of the creatures they had to fight, but this doesn’t feel like that at all. It has to be real.

By the Light… _It’s real_.

When they pull apart, they both look flustered and surprised.

“Fuck,” Dismas mutters then, which almost makes Reynauld laugh. He would’ve laughed were the situation different, but with things as they are now, he can only echo Dismas’ sentiment.

“ _Fuck._ ”

They stare at each other in stunned silence for what feels like forever, but eventually Dismas speaks out again.

“We should talk about it,” he says, and if _he_ , who as much as he likes to act dramatic sometimes would rather die than to openly talk about what goes on inside his head, has to say it, then things are very serious.

“Yes, we should…” Reynauld nods, though they both stay silent.

Things will go nowhere if they keep going on like this.

“You first.”

“You first.”

They both immediately stop, chuckling at the absurdity of this moment. Reynauld clears his throat then.

“You first,” he repeats.

“You’re better at talking than me,” Dismas replies, shaking his head. “You first.”

Reynauld sighs, but in the end he goes along with it, if anything in order not to start an argument about who should start - that would be childish. He takes a deep breath then; he doesn’t know why he’s so afraid, especially considering that even though he kissed Dismas first, the second kiss has clearly been initiated by the other, so there has to be something between them, some returned feelings, but he still can’t shake the feeling that this is all just a big misunderstanding.

He takes a deep breath. He can do this, he has survived worse.

“Dismas, I think what I feel for you is obvious…” he tries, but for once that Dismas could’ve freely talked, he stays silent, focus completely towards him. He supposes he’ll have to continue.

“I couldn’t tell you when exactly it happened, but the more time we spent together the more I felt… _drawn_ to you. I won’t pretend to know who you were before coming here, but I can tell that this place has changed you: you are hardly the person I first met when we both decided to take this job. I couldn’t be prouder of the person you’ve become. It’s an honor, for me, to be able to walk by your side, to talk to you, to consider you a companion, but there’s more. Dismas I… Dismas, I have completely fallen in love with you.”

He expects many reactions to come from Dismas, and yet he still manages to surprise him, because he begins to laugh at his words. Is he making fun of him?

“I think we’ve got all this wrong…” Dismas says once he manages to calm down, the warm smile on his face that contrasts the icy feeling that is spreading inside Reynauld at those words. “I mean, first the kiss, then the declaration of eternal love? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“So you…”

“I’m not as good as you are with words,” Dismas begins, taking a step closer to Reynauld, “But I love ya too, you idiot.”

They kiss again, this time in a softer way, without the rush of adrenaline that they felt before. It feels like a dream or even some sort of enchantment, but it’s all true.

Snow is still falling, their air has gotten even colder, but all Dismas and Reynauld can feel is the warmth radiating from each other.

It’s a beautiful sensation.


End file.
